


Confessions & Definitions

by hauntedd



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Clones, Family, Found Family, Gen, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:23:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2815289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedd/pseuds/hauntedd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felix and Alison share secrets and figure out who they are to one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions & Definitions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katiac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiac/gifts).



Alison isn’t sure how it happened. One night the two of them are hanging out at her home because she needs fashion advice and good company, and suddenly Felix is staring at her intently, not unlike the face that Oscar makes when he is getting ready to confess some big secret.

Most of Oscar’s secrets have to do with how he doesn’t like Tommy or that he loves her best. She doubts that whatever Felix is working up the courage to tell her will be as easily resolved and washed away with a well-timed kiss and words of encouragement.

“What is it Felix?”

“Alison—I have to tell you something,” Felix begins and Alison resists her impulse to roll her eyes. It’s painted across his face that he has to tell her something. For two people who were raised as closely together as Sarah and Felix, they couldn’t be more different in their ability to hide their emotions. If she and Sarah didn’t share a face, Alison is convinced she would never know what she was thinking.

“All right,” Alison acquiesces, knowing from experience how to handle this part of a confession.

“You _can’t_ tell Sarah.”

Well, that’s new. From all that she’s seen of Sarah and Felix, Sarah knows all of his secrets, even if he only knows a few of hers. It makes Alison feel special, important, that Felix trusts her with this—whatever it is. She can handle it. She can.

She’s survived the knowledge that she’s a lab rat in an experiment. Nothing can be more difficult to come to terms with than that.

“We all have our secrets, Felix. I can keep yours.”

She’d certainly kept Donnie’s body buried. _So far_ , anyway. 

“Right, sorry,” Felix apologizes and inhales sharply as he flops down on her couch. If this were any other time, Alison would have a hundred words ready about how her couch was for _sitting_ and not _jouncing_. “It’s just not every day you admit that you made out with a member of clone club.”

“You… you did _what_?” 

She cringes as Felix shifts away from her. Lord and honey she knows better than this—the older she gets, the more she acts like her mother. It’s just that her first thought had been Felix making out with one of them, but that certainly would not do—Felix was _gay_.

Oh. _Oh_. That must be it. A member of _clone club_ , not a c— _genetic identical_. Well, he was a bit older, but he certainly knew enough about their situation to understand, and he could have a maturing influence on him.

“I didn’t know that Art liked men.”

“It wasn’t Art, Alison,” Felix interrupts, frowning at her. Why was he frowning at her? Art and Felix would make a lovely couple—unless of course he spurned his advances. Well, best to get the correct answer before eliminating Art from her Christmas card list, at any rate.

“Then, who? It wasn’t _one of us_ , was it?” 

There’s a long pause and Felix shifts away from her toward the edge of the couch. Oh, for Pete’s sake, now he’s acting like _Gemma_ —oh, _oh_.

“Was it one of us?”

“Look, okay, it was just once and—“

“And what, Felix?” Alison interrupts, stunned by this admission. Really—he had made out with a… a… woman? 

Felix isn’t saying anything and before she can think better of it, she’s off the couch and pacing back and forth. If there were still wine in the house she would pour herself a tall glass of it right about now.

“Hmm? Did you like it?”

“Leave it _out_ Alison,” Felix snaps and Alison notices the slight tinge in his cheeks despite his obvious anger at her prodding.

“You did like it!”

“Well, I didn’t _hate_ it. It was—"

What the—did she wake up in bizzaro world? That had to be it. Felix liked men, not women, and especially not women with her _face_.

“Aren’t you _gay_?”

Well, that sounded less ridiculous and way less accusatory in her head. But it’s a valid question nonetheless. 

“Yes! God, you _suburbans_ and your complete lack of tact!” Felix huffs, annoyed. “ _His_ name is Tony, and—“

Who the heck is Tony? Why doesn’t she know about this? Wait, if it’s a _he_ , then, what? Since when did they consider Castor clones part of the c club?

“So you met, and made out with, one of the military clones?”

“No—from your batch,” Felix answers and then mumbles, his voice so muddled that she can barely hear him, “definitely from your batch.”

“A transsexual genetic identical?” Alison asks, pleased with herself when Felix’s eyes widen at her proper terminology. She’s involved in community _theatre_ and she acted at university. She knows things.

“Bloody hell Alison. Just say cl—“

“We do **not** say the _c-word_. I need to draw my boundaries somewhere, Felix.”

She does say the _c-word_ , sometimes, when the situation warrants it, but this is definitely not one of those times. Felix is making out with a man who looks exactly like them, like her—a little distance is necessary.

“Alright, _fine_. Yes, a trans genetic identical, then.”

Well, sugar cubes, he was supposed to elaborate! What is she supposed to say now?

“I, I didn’t know that was possible,” Alison stammers as she sits back on her couch, a million questions running through her head. She knows Cosima is bi, but that’s quite different from being transgender. It’s a lot to think about.

“Which part?”

“Funny. Very funny.” Alison replies; a smile betraying her attempt to act put out by Felix’s poor joke. “You know quite well which part.” 

“Well—“

Oh for the love of all that’s holy, Felix needs to stop dawdling and get to the point.

“What was sh—”?

“ _He_ , Alison. You know better,” Felix interrupts and she instantly blanches. She _does_ know better, it’s just that every single one of them is a woman.

Well, every one of the genetic identicals she knew about before tonight, anyway.

“Right. I’m sorry, of course. I’m just so used to us all being women that, _never mind_. What was _he_ like?”

“What do you mean?”

Does she really have to spell it out for him? He’s—he’s a _professional_ , what she wants to know should be obvious enough.

“You know,“ Alison whispers conspiratorially, trying to wink, but mostly blinking for her efforts. 

Felix shoots up from the sofa and heads for the cabinet, probably looking for some liquor. Unfortunately, they’d cleaned it out after the Leekie mess. Slamming the cabinet shut, he turns back to face her.

“This has got to be the strangest bloody form of kiss and tell—“

“Well, you’re the one who brought it up,” Alison interrupts, hurt. That was why he brought it up, right? 

“It doesn’t mean I want to tell you the gory details.“

“I’m married. I need something to liven up my boring life,” Alison prods, trying to get him to open up.

“Sharing a face with at least ten other people isn’t enough for you?”

Allison raises an eyebrow and Felix waves her off. 

“Can’t you find one of your girlfriends to dish with? Oh right, they all seem to have tragic accidents with neckwear,” Felix smirks and sits down next to her, crossing his legs for emphasis.

“Felix!”

If it were _anyone_ else, she’d be in tears right now. But somehow, with Felix this is acceptable, if classless.

“I’m sorry. That was low.”

“Yes it was,” Alison agrees, her tone clipped. “There was a lot of therapy involved, but I—I have come to terms with it and moved past it.”

And am now laughing at it, apparently. 

“I’m glad, Alison, I am,” Felix says, concerned. Then, after a pause, he meets her eyes and softens his gaze. “And you could never be boring.”

“Well—“

That’s not what her Dyad files say. Somehow Sarah had gotten ahold of them, with whatever industry tricks she had, and it was all there. Her whole life—and Dyad believed she was positively _boring_. And maybe she was boring, once, and sometimes she misses how routine everything was _before_ , but if this fiasco with Rachel proved anything it was that she _couldn’t_ go back, and now Alison isn’t sure she would even want to.

“Well what?” Felix asks, breaking her from her thoughts. “Do _you_ have something you want to tell me? Is that it?”

“No, no—“

Well, yes. Kind of—but it’s Donnie’s story to tell.

“Alison—“

“Fine. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?”

Technically, it _is_ her story too, now. She did dig the hole and figure out where to stash the body. If Donnie had been in charge she’d be in _prison_ by now. And from what Beth’d said, prison certainly wasn’t as enjoyable as _Orange as the New Black_ made it out to be.

Not that a tampon sandwich was particularly pleasant. But some of the other aspects—a routine, strict hierarchies, had a certain sort of appeal.

“Alright, deal. But yours better be juicy—“ 

“Well, it’s not juicy, but it is _nasty_ ,” Alison teases and Felix sits forward, obviously intrigued. And before she can think better of it, she spills the whole thing, from Donnie accidentally killing Doctor Leekie to renovating the garage to the run in with Vic and DeAngelis and finally—to the freezer.

Alison holds her breath and watches Felix’s face for any sign that he thinks what she’s done is horrid. There isn’t one, thankfully, but his jaw hasn’t closed and is just kind of hanging there.

He should really stop that. His face could freeze that way—and then where would they be? 

“Felix? Are you alright?”

Her voice snaps him out of it. Well, snaps his jaw back in place, at any rate. Except now he’s _laughing_. 

Loudly.

Whole-heartedly.

And Alison wants to find the biggest hole that she can find and crawl into it. He’s laughing at her. Stupid, boring, suburban Alison, always the joke.

“Donnie? On the freezer? In your bloody garage of horrors?”

“It was quite enjoyable, you know,” Alison grits out, trying to hide her hurts behind her mask. She thinks she’s successful because Felix doesn’t seem to notice that she’s hanging on by a thread.

“Right, yeah. I always get all hot and bothered after I bury a body.”

Felix has never actually buried a body. It’s rather exhilarating once you get over the morality of it. Maybe she should have had this conversation with Sarah. Sarah, at least, has buried a body, even if she made a mess of it. 

“He was very rugged. Virile—“

“Donnie? _Your_ Donnie? Virile?”

This is completely unproductive. When Donnie is assertive, it’s _very_ attractive. Felix just hasn’t seen that side of him yet, that’s all. It’s not every day a man threatens a rogue cop for you.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Felix. You… you kissed one of us—“

And just like that, Felix deflates in front of her. Well, that’s the last time Donnie’s manhood will be questioned for the night, at least.

“I like how you all lose your autonomy when it’s convenient,” Felix mutters sullenly and Alison can’t hold back her eye roll this time.

“Isn’t it like incest or something? Sarah is your _sister_.”

She doesn’t think it is incest. Strange, yes—and if one _identical_ were making out with another _identical_ it’d be different, probably—but she mostly wants to make him pay for his mocking. 

“Not biologically,” Felix returns, narrowing his eyes at her and Alison throws a pillow at him, which he catches easily. 

“Don’t be so judgey,” Felix smirks, waving her off. “It’s the first bloody necking I’ve had that hasn’t been interrupted with all of your shite in weeks.”

“Whatever gets your rocks off, Felix, but you obviously told me for a reason.”

“I told you because you’re my _friend_ , Alison. Not my bloody priest at confession.” Felix snaps and Alison inhales, gently tapping her foot against the floorboards as she waits. She knows him well enough by now to know that this is simply what he does. It’s different from Sarah, the way that he lashes out, but they both do this—usually when they’re scared.

Oh _shoot_. He’s afraid of being rejected over this—that’s why he doesn’t want her to tell Sarah.

“I think he’s in trouble, Alison. I gave him a burner when we sent him on his way, but now he’s back in town and—“

“And you’re worried about him?”

“Well, no, he can take care of himself, but—“

“Just because he can take care of himself doesn’t mean you can’t be worried, Felix. I know you worry about Sarah. I know I do, and she’s certainly capable.”

“It’s different. Sarah’s my _sister_.”

So this is what he wants her help with—parsing out who he and Tony are to one another. Maybe he does think it’s wrong to like this man. For all his bluster, Felix is concerned about what people think.

“Ah, but _Tony_ isn’t your brother?”

“Well— _no_ , but—“

“But nothing, Felix! He’s not your brother, just like I am not your sister—“

“No! No. It’s hard to explain.” 

What part of their lives _isn’t_ hard to explain? She wants to interrupt him, but knows better. If she talks now, Felix will never make sense of his feelings—no, he needs a moment to come up with what he’s trying to say.

“You aren’t _Sarah_ , but you kind of are my sister. Another sister, that is,” Felix interrupts and Alison wraps her arms around him before she can think better of it. She fights back tears but Felix can see them anyway and gently thumbs them off her cheeks.

“We can’t have you ruining your makeup,” Felix whispers into her ear and Alison looks up at him with watery eyes.

“I—that may be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

It is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to her. She’s never had sisters or brothers and despite her efforts to fit in, Alison knows she never truly does. So to hear Felix say that he thinks of her as family, well that means something.

“What? That you can’t ruin your makeup? We have _got_ to get Donnie some classes at charm school,” Felix jokes, self-deprecating as always. 

She won’t let him—not this time.

“No, you idiot. That you think of me as your sister.”

“Well, I do.” Felix confirms, matter-of-factly, as if it’s always been this way, as if it’s obvious. “You and Cosima and god don’t tell her, but Helena too.”

Maybe it is obvious. When he says it like that—well how can it not be?

“I—I think of you all as family too. Well, not _Rachel_ , but—“

“God no. Proclone is definitely _not_ family.”

“And neither is Tony,” Alison points out.

“No. And neither is Tony,” Felix admits reluctantly. Well, they were getting somewhere, at least.

“Tony is different?”

“Yeah, he’s _different_ alright.”

“Well, that’s it, then!”

“What are you goin’ on about?”

“Felix,” Alison sighs, annoyed. Now he is intentionally being difficult and the worst part is that he _knows_ it. “Tony isn’t family, so it doesn’t matter what you do, or don’t do, with him. So long as it’s between consenting adults.”

“It does bloody well matter! He has your face—“

Maybe if it were a few months ago that would have mattered. A lot of things mattered more before Dyad, before Cosima’s brush with death. But she’s seen enough of these women, of her _sisters_ by now to know that even though they all share the same face, the same starting point, they’re all different people. And that’s okay.

“So? By my count, there are at least twelve people with my face. And we are all very different people, despite our shared DNA.”

“Sarah won’t—“

Sarah again. Felix has to stop this—Sarah loves him more than anyone, well maybe except Kira, at any rate. She won’t care—not at the expense of losing him.

“Is this what this is about? What Sarah will think?”

Felix fixes her with a glare. Of course that’s what this is about.

“Sarah _loves_ you. She wants you to be happy. She might think it’s a little weird at first, but—“

“A lot weird, Alison. It’s a _lot_ weird—it’s practically Oedipal.”

Jiminy Cricket now he is just being ridiculous. And using his metaphors incorrectly. This simply will not do.

“Tony isn’t your mother; neither is Sarah.”

“It’s a _phrase_ Alison.”

“Yes, an incorrect one. I minored in English, I would know.”

“Oh here we go—“

No. He will not derail her. Not now, not when he needs to hear this.

“My _point_ , Felix, is that Sarah loves you. Cosima loves you. I love you. And I’m sure, in her disturbed way, Helena loves you too. So if Tony is back in town and you want to explore this thing, well—explore it.” 

“Unless he’s a felon.” Alison adds after a second, remembering her train of thought from earlier, when she’d assumed that Felix was seeing Art. “I already have one sibling with a criminal history, and I won’t have you drawn further down that road—“

“He may have had some legal trouble—“

Oh, no. No. Felix needed a nice man to settle down with, someone stable, _law-abiding_. He couldn’t be an escort forever—and she knew he already had a record, but was choosing to ignore that to make her point.

“Felix!”

“You’ve got a history of negligent homicide!”

Well, _yes_ , technically. And Cosima has a history of drug use. Maybe criminal activity was a family activity—oh, if only her mother knew she’d have a heart attack. Or join a convent and pray to the lord for deliverance.

Possibly both.

“Alright, alright. Far be it from me to judge, then,” Alison acquiesces. She tries to change the subject only to be interrupted by Felix’s phone and its distinctive ring.

“Shit.” Felix curses, his cheeks reddening slightly as he glances at the display. Well, she has an idea who is on the other end of the line.

“Is that him?”

“Yeah—“

“What are you waiting for? Pick it up.” Alison commands before Felix can come up with a reason not to answer. Life is too short to waste, Cosima’s illness taught them that.

“I’ll be upstairs, we could use some popcorn. You still owe me some _details_.”

“Piss off, Alison.”

Alison glares at him, crossing her arms against her chest and she watches as he looks down at her floor, fully chastised. 

“Okay, yeah. Details.” 

Felix hits the button and places the phone against his ear, but not before calling up to her. “Hey Alison—“

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Alison smiles and turns away from him, her ponytail bobbing behind her. They might all be lab rats in an experiment, but she’s _happier_ now than she’s ever been and she wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.


End file.
